Soul had never been very good at making friends.
It wasn't like he was opposed to the idea. It just never seemed to happen. Day in and day out he would go to class. He would sit next to the same group of children. Sometimes he would say hello and maybe wave, but more often than not he would simply sit in silence. It wasn't until he was older that he realized why the other children wouldn't look at him. Blood red eyes, sharp teeth more fit for a shark than a child, and head frosted white hair.
He looked like a monster.
No one wanted to be friends with a monster. It didn't take long before he began to hate going to school. Hating hearing all the whispers. Hating the weight of the stares he would receive. Eventually he found it best to simply sit in the back of the class with his eyes down and his mouth closed. The less people thought about him the better off he would be.
He envied his brother.
Wes was perfect. Perfect in every way. People liked him almost as soon as them met him. They weren't put off by his white hair or his red eyes. They simply found him all the more fascinating. All the more beautiful. Wes could captivate an entire room with only a few choice words and some times without even speaking at all. He could pick up his violin and play a riveting melody that would make their mother weep with joy.
The best he could do with his piano was make her smile. It was a real smile. It was warm and it was comforting, but he was greedy. He wanted to be more. But it didn't matter how hard he tried, he could never reach that level. It always felt like he was just a few steps behind on a stairway that got longer each and every day.
The day he found out about his "ability" was not a good day. The sudden transition from flesh to metal had terrified him. It was nearly a week before his brother was able to coax him out of his room. Wes thought it was the "coolest" thing he had ever seen and had asked him to do it again and again.
That had been the first time Soul had ever felt "cool" in his entire life.
It had been Wes who had found out about the DWMA for him. Completely fascinated with the sudden change he would spent all night with his younger brother, helping him learn how to control the transformation and even sparring with him a few times before their mother had caught them.
It had also been Wes who convinced their parents that Soul's path was not with them. He could see the loneliness in Soul. See the sadness that was already taking root in his brother.
The first day at the new school had been terrifying. Soul had thought there would be others. Others like him. But he had been wrong. The others looked so normal, so human. Within a week he had already fallen into the same routine of avoidance. Thoughts of leaving would cross his mind almost hourly as he attended his classes, going through the motions. Even the excitement of combat seemed dull as he honed his skills against other weapons and learned more and more about his abilities. He had almost quit.
Then he met her.
She was average. No, she wasn't even average. She was below average. A stick thin meister with large eyes, a cheerful smile, and a flat chest. She had found him, somehow, sulking away in his usual haunt, the black piano tempting him to play. So he had played for her. He hadn't planned to play for her. He never really liked playing for anyone outside of his family. But still, he played for her. He played for what felt like days and when he was finished she was still there.
And she had smiled.
It was not a smile like his mothers. She clearly didn't understand. In fact, he doubted she knew a single thing about music. But she did smile, and more importantly, she stayed. Her hand had felt so frail in his that first time he held it and for a moment he thought he had made a mistake.
He knew he hadn't though. He learned she was annoying and bookish and sometimes she was boring, but she was also that she was kind, and brave. She was like his own little beacon of light, guiding him through the black waves of a storm.
She was his meister and he was her weapon.
It was funny how life turned out…
Soul had never been very good at making friends, but somehow, against all odds, here he was. Sitting on a couch in his cozy little apartment with Maka's head lying on his lap as she drifted off to sleep, her book resting on her chest.
No, Soul had never been very good at making friends but that wasn't important because now he was happy just the way he was.
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